Thoughts from the ammo line

Ammo Grrrll is pretty sure that AFAB IS A FIB AND GIVES ME AFiB. She writes:

So I go to a nice, respected MEDICAL site to find out how much potassium is in a baked potato, okay? At a recent medical check-up, my potassium levels were measured and found wanting. Anyway, at this site, there’s a nice long article about why potassium is important, a list of foods that are high in it, and a chart showing how much of it an individual needs.

It all seems quite informative until I see the chart and realize that these MEDICAL people have been coerced, bought, or browbeaten into designating ME as an AFAB. Quoi?

Of course, AFAB is the utterly inaccurate acronym for the stupidest nonsense ever thought up by the Intersectional Ninny Crowd of nanny-bullies. I am now an “Assigned Female At Birth.” And as such should ingest over 2600 mgs of Potassium a day.

Evidently that number applies even if I should take a notion to mutilate myself and install some kind of fake and undistinguished male member. Which is prima facie evidence that the initial assignment was CORRECT, right? It doesn’t say Now that you’ve DECIDED willy-nilly that you are a fella, all bets are off. Go ahead and eat less or even more Potassium. Whatever floats your boat.

NO. It specifically says that IF you were originally assigned as a female, then THAT is the amount of Potassium you will need for your whole life. Because you will NEVER – yea, in every cell in your body – be ANYTHING but a FEMALE.

In a random act of Old School Journalism (remember the 5 W’s? How quaint!), let me ask a couple of questions to the cowardly degenerates who use this designation:

WHO exactly “assigned” me to be female?

Answer: A beautiful family doctor in 1946 who saved my teeny, tiny preemie life for the three months it took for me to hit FIVE pounds and be released to the custody of my kind and attentive parents who were temporarily living with my paternal grandparents. Allegedly, my dear late grandfather once took me uptown in a shoebox to show his poker buddies how tiny his first grandchild was! Though I have no memory of the incident, Mama was not thrilled to find me gone.

HOW in the world did this backward old country doctor – without a single green-haired, pierced, obese, freaky kindergarten teacher to school him — know which of the two genders to assign me?

Answer: Well, after delivering hundreds of babies over dozens of years, he figured out that the ones with little penises were MALE and the ones with the little vaginas were FEMALE. It was Medical School 101. Some say you could even “assign” accurately without an M.D. degree!

That doctor and his kind nurse, Olina Rogness, are both long gone now – in fact, litigation in Obstetrics has driven baby-delivery out of my little hospital in Hendricks, Minnesota – but if he were here, I would bet all I own that he never once in his long and distinguished career ever made a mistake in “assigning.” (My late bestie, who was an OB/Gyn in Los Angeles, said they were very carefully trained to pronounce niño and niña clearly, but other than that, they KNEW upon a pretty cursory glance which it was.)

And WHY would I now trust any other information a doctor, clinic, or Website has to offer after learning that he, she, or it believes sex is “assigned” rather than biological? Next thing they will assert is that doughnuts and coffee do not make a perfectly healthy breakfast!

People who are utterly clear about which of the two sexes they are represent 99-plus percent of the population. Those who — for reasons of glomming onto Victimhood, severe mental illness, or heartless parents’ faddish Munchausen by Proxy — claim that they are something other than what they were “assigned” at birth do not even constitute .1 percent of the population. This, despite relentless recruiting and grooming from grade school on. And yet the whole rest of the world must cater to their mental illness.

Well, I won’t.

All we hear these days is how fragile is our Precious DemocracyTM. WHY would you insist on such an undemocratic, stupid designation that is both wildly inaccurate (a fib!) and indicative of craven fealty to an infinitesimal percentage of the population? (sending me into Atrial Fibrillation…)

We Jews, I have always heard, constitute something like 2 percent of our U.S. population. Do I believe that the society must bend the knee and declare every Jewish holiday a national holiday, taken off from work with pay? No, I do not, although I am often struck with amazement that restaurants are still open and millions of people appear to be EATING on Yom Kippur! Oh yeah, I remember now — that’s because they are not Jewish, and not subject to Jewish law.

Unlike many Muslims here and in Europe who pray and strive for “sharia” to be the Law of the Land, I have no interest whatsoever in forcing my laws – dietary or otherwise – on the broader population. Enjoy the heck out of your bacon! As the sign outside our casino says, “You do you!”

Give it a rest, crazies. I am not an AFAB. I am a Grrrll, a female, a woman, a wife (not a “partner”) and a mother, not a birthing person. I fed my baby from my breasts, not my “chest.” Go pound sand.

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